


Something to Fight For

by Tiger_Lilly13



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Grey Warden Stamina, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 12:39:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiger_Lilly13/pseuds/Tiger_Lilly13
Summary: After the destruction of the Chantry, Hawke reveals why she refuses to execute Anders.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel bad not updating my other story so here is some Anders smut.

Hawke should have gone to sleep a while ago, the only light filtering from her high window being the stars on this particularly clear evening. She just couldn’t sleep in that bed anymore. The bed she used to share with him. The bed they used to sleep in, lay in each other’s arms, make love in over and over again. Her heart aches at the thought of still being able to smell his scent on the pillow, of elfroot and the sharp tang of his magic. Every chance she gets, she tries to sleep on the divan in her room, but it is too small, and honestly feels even lonelier than the large, empty bed would.

Now she is sitting at her desk, a single candle burning low in the corner, answering letters from the many suitors asking for her hand. She scoffs to herself. Suitors. As if she would ever be moved by sweet words and pompous dignitaries who only want her for her standing.

She picks up yet another letter from Cedric Langston. He is, an interesting man. Defiantly not her type, but he at least didn’t faun all over her like a love sick boy at the party she had to attend a few weeks prior. Her mother liked him well enough when they met 3 years ago, and ever since her death, Hawke has been relinquishing her hold on finding a ‘suitable husband’, using her mother’s words. Now that Anders had left her, for reasons she still does not understand, she was seriously considering the man again. She sighs, _If only to make mother happy._

“Hawke.”

She lifts her eyes from the letter and turns her head to the familiar baritone, seeing Anders at her bedroom door. She doesn’t speak, and turns back to her desk. After a moment of silence she asks, “What are you doing here?” He doesn’t answer her and she can see him out of the corner of her eye standing awkwardly, fidgeting from foot to foot. Hawke sighs and stands, walking over to him, the letters forgotten. He cannot even meet her eyes when she stands a few feet in front of him with her arms crossed. Her face softens when she notices the dark – or darker- circles under his eyes. He just looks…exhausted. She tilts her head, her brows knit with worry, “Anders?”

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for a conversation he is clearly concerned about having, “I…I wanted to thank you again for today. For helping me and…”

She cuts him off with a humorless snort, “Yeah, well you have a funny way of showing gratitude.” She had helped him collect these outlandish ingredients for a ‘potion’ he claimed would separate him and Justice, which she knew in the back of her mind that he wasn’t telling the truth, but she went along with it to see how it would play out. She wasn’t all that surprised when he confessed that he was lying to her. And then asking her to distract the Grand Cleric with no explanation as to why? Again, she agreed. Damn her heart’s blind foolishness. It will come back to bite her in the ass, she just knows it.

Anders had been acting so suspicious even before he broke things off with her. She believed that he was cheating on her, but she later found out that he was just hole up in his clinic, even turning away patients to write in that stupid journal about his manifesto. He is just so obsessed with this mage and Templar fiasco that she just lets him be. If he wants to destroy himself by being completely consumed by a lost cause, then there is nothing she could do. Even though it breaks her heart to see him this upset and vulnerable.

He looks down, away from her scrutiny, “I know, and I’m sorry. But you just need to know.” His eyes finally lift and lock with hers and the turmoil pooling in his whiskey orbs shocks her, “I still feel the same way about you. I still love you, so much. And no matter what, I need you to remember that.” _Well,_ she thinks sarcastically to herself, _wasn’t that unsettling…_

She shakes her head, visibly agitated by his vague and ominous declarations, “What do you mean no matter what? What is with all this evasiveness? What is going on?”

His face contorts in worry, “Please Hawke. I just need you to trust me.”

She stares at him, neither saying a thing. She contemplates his words, seeing the desperate plea in his eyes. Does she trust him? After deceiving her earlier that day, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t trust him with many things, least of all this, but her heart won’t let this go, won’t let him go. Finally she says, “I do.”

His eyes soften, relief filling them, “Thank you, love.” She flinches inwardly at his endearment, it sounding empty and meaningless in her ears. There is still much he isn’t telling her, that much was certain, but no matter how much she pressed him about it, she knows he won’t tell her. Once again, her foolish heart wins out.

An uncomfortable silence settles over them, neither of them looking at each other or knowing what to say. Hawke eventually asks gently, “So is that all you came her for? Just to tell me that?”

Anders’s eyes scan her room behind her wistfully. He seems to be wanting to say something, but his gaze travels back down to her own for a moment before he sighs, looking away from her, “I…I guess so. I just wanted to see you, but…if you would rather I go, I understand.” He just looks so defeated, so tired. As if all the life has been sucked out of him and he is just a walking corpse with one goal in mind, one purpose. How can this man not only break her heart once, but now twice? She laughs humorlessly.

No, she will not let him go so easily this time.

Before she can stop herself, her hands cup his jaw and she lifts onto her toes, bringing his lips down to press against hers. He doesn’t react at first, his lips unmoving, but she is determined to at least taste him, if this is to be the last time. His lips are still as soft and warm as she remembers them.

His inner conflict is won when he lifts his hands to her waist and grips her hard, softly moaning into her mouth and opening his lips to her. She parts her lips and glides her tongue against his, reveling in the familiar taste of her former lover. She presses her body flush against his and he wraps his arms around her waist. She tilts her head to deepen the kiss even more, and he mimics her movements, pressing his lips harder to hers.

They are both panting for breath when she pulls back only slightly. Marian licks her lips then whispers against his own, “Stay with me tonight.” She slides her hands from his cheeks, his stubble scratching her palms, to latch on to the back of his neck. She studies his eyes, his pupils wide and dark, the heat and desire clear in them. She knows what his answer is already, they have been through this dance before, but she has to try anyways, “Please.”

That is why she is surprised when he turns his head away from her and squeezes his eyes shut, angling his head down. She recognizes this motion. This is usually when he is arguing with that insufferable spirit lodged inside his head. His voice is soft, but desperate as he speaks out loud, holding her tighter to him, “Please, just let me have this.” She watches his face patiently, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as he struggles with himself.

His eyes open slowly and she can see the barest flash of blue in his eyes, but it is gone as quickly as it manifests. He turns back to her and she looks into his eyes with false hope, her heart pounding in her ears. He just stares at her for a few tense moments and a sinking feeling pools in her stomach. She mentally prepares herself for the inevitable rejection.

Then the corner of his mouth lifts slowly in a half smile. She grins brightly, not needing him to vocalize his success at bargaining with the spirit, and grips the back of his neck and crashes his mouth to hers with a desperate moan. He kisses her back with as much fervor as he did the first time in his clinic all those years ago, the kiss that secured her feelings for him. It felt so right, having him here with her again.

She pulls the tie holding some of his blond hair back and it comes cascading down as she runs her fingers through it. His hands run up and down on her sides, all the while plundering her mouth with his tongue like a man starved for affection and she responds just as needy.

Anders takes one hand away from her body to reach the door and close it behind him with a loud click. He pushes her toward the bed while pulling at her sash that holds her house robe to her form. Marian willingly steps backwards at his movements, fumbling with the ties on his own robes. She moans into his mouth, “Maker, I’ve missed you.” He answers her with a groan, ripping the sash away from her as she rips at the buckles encasing him.

He pants as he continues to strip her hastily, “I don’t know how long I have.” She nods her head and resumes the heated, desperate kiss. He slides her robe off her shoulders, and his breath hitches in his throat when her bare breasts are revealed to him. She usual foregoes a breast band at night when she sleeps, and her nipples tighten in the cold air of her room.

The backs of her knees hit the bed and she pulls him down on top of her, scooting back so that her head rests on the pillows. He kisses her lips, then trails up her jaw then down to her neck, all the while grinding his hips against hers. His erection is prominent at this point, the clothed member rutting up against her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her body.

Marian whines, “Anders, please.” He lifts from her and tugs off the rest of his robes, his naked chest now exposed. She tries not to notice that he has clearly not been eating. He has gotten thinner and she mentally notes that even if this is a one-time thing, to at least bring him food every day and force him to eat something.

He bends down and kisses her at her naval, traveling up to the valley between her breasts. She squirms impatiently under him, his lips wet and soft against her heated skin. He trails nips and licks until he reaches the peak of her breasts and wraps his mouth around her tighten bud, suckling her gently. Marian moans quietly at his work and she cards her fingers through his hair, down his back, leaving light scratches and he gives her an appreciate moan.

He travels down her body with his lips again, teasing her just above her smallclothes. He grips them and yanks them off of her, leaving her bare and wanton on the bed. Marian bites her lip and rubs her hands down her body, cupping her own breasts as Anders stares at her naked flesh. She gives him a seductive smile and purrs at him, “Well? Are you just going to sit there?”

Anders jerks from his thoughts and hastily attacks the ties of his breeches, the large bulge in the front making it difficult. He fumbles getting them untied, pushing them down until he realizes he still has his boots on. He grunts and stands for a moment, tugging them off and ripping his breeches and small clothes off. His heated gaze returns to his lover on the bed, and she beckons him to her with one finger, licking her bottom lip.

He growls playfully and gives her a wolfish grin, jumping onto the bed as she giggles at his mischievousness. He spreads her thighs with his legs and seals his lips to hers. Marian moans in his mouth when his hand slides down her body, stopping to cup her breast and tease at the hardened nipple with his thumb, getting a gasp out of her. He resumes his trek down over her hip which he squeezes, and stops at his destination, the apex of her thighs.

He rubs two fingers over her clit and her breath gets caught in her throat. They venture down to her heated core and he experimentally circles her entrance, teasing her swollen folds. His eyes roll back slightly at feeling her slick passage and he groans, “Wet already, Marian?” Anders slides his fingers inside her to the first knuckle, then pulls back, not giving her nearly enough friction. She feels like she will die if she does not get him inside her right now.

She pushes on his shoulders, determination and eagerness in her lust filled eyes, “No more teasing.”

He chuckles at her, his smile brighter then she has seen in a long time, but relents and flips onto his back, “Well aren’t you impatient, love.”

“Yes, I am.”

She straddles his hips and takes his hard cock in hand, moving her hand up and down, squeezing gently. A sharp exhale is heard from the man below her and she glances at him, seeing his eyes fixed on her hand on his engorged member. She angles him right at her entrance and slowly descends, stopping when his head is inside. Anders moans, unable to keep his eyes off of her face, only glancing down to where they are connected. Marian whines in her throat, already feeling stretched with just his head nestled inside her. It has been far too long for her.

She takes a steady breath and continues to sink down onto him, her eyes squeezing shut and mewling sounds escaping her. Once she is fully seated, their hips flush together, she opens her eyes half way. Anders’s eyes are wide, his mouth open in awe. His hands are gripping her hips tightly, and she can see in his ridged movements that he is trying to stay still.

Once she has adjusted to the delicious intrusion, she slowly lifts back up, his cock dragging and stretching against her sensitive walls. Anders groans at the friction and his eyes shut for a moment. She rotates her hips when she sinks back down on him faster and he lets out a shout of surprise. She laughs breathlessly at his reaction.

She builds up a steady rhythm, using her legs to lift off his cock, then push him back in. She leans over him, her hands on either side of his head as she rides him faster. He is breathing harder now, his grip on her hips tightening while he helps her fuck him, the new angle hitting her most sensitive spots, making it difficult for her to concentrate. He feels so good inside her, so hard and warm, and she is delirious with the intensity. She has missed this, missed him, so much.

“Anders," She moans into his neck, the emotional toll weakening her, “Please. I can’t…”

He grips her rear and lifts his hips, thrusting into her at a frantic pace, his fingers digging into her flesh. The only sounds she hears is there flesh slapping together, the blood rushing in her ears, and Anders’s quiet moans that are steadily increasing in volume.

He angles her hips just so, and on every thrust, he hits something deep inside of her that has her thrown over the edge. She moans his name loudly, “Oh Anders!” Her clit starts to pulse with her erratic heartbeat, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. Her body tenses and her walls around his cock beginning to constrict him, almost suffocating the large member thrusting frantically inside her. Even through her haze, she can feel him start to swell.

“Fuck…Marian…I’m…I’m gunna come, I’m-” He breaks off with a loud groan, his hips thrusting as deep as he can go inside her. He holds her to him, their hips flush against each other. She can feel the warmth, the pressure of his seed being released inside her, and she grinds down on his hips whimpering at the pleasure she feels on her over sensitive clit. She nuzzles his neck with little mewls as the last of his twitches stop and his hips cease there movements.

They are both panting, sweating, and completely spent. _Well,_ she thinks mischievously as she wiggles her hips on his still hard cock, _maybe not completely._

He grunts when she starts squirming and Anders holds her hips down, “Mmm, not quite yet, love.”

She smiles and leans down to kiss his swollen lips. She pulls back and licks at his mouth, humming, “Maker, I’ve missed your Warden stamina.”

He snorts, rubbing his hands up and down her back, “Well, we best put it to good use tonight then.” There is a lingering sadness in his eyes at that, but he pushes it down and smirks at her, giving her a little thrust.

She grins brightly at him and leans down for another kiss, lifting her hips and starting to ride him again.

\------------

Marian wakes when she rolls over and the beams of the morning sun hit directly into her eyes. She groans and sits up rubbing her eyes and notices the distinct ache and wetness between her legs. She smiles to herself, remembering the hours of love making with Anders the night before and lays her hand on the other side of the bed, only to find cold sheets.

She opens her eyes and sees his side of the bed empty. There is no note, and no evidence that he was even there last night if it wasn’t for the pleasant pulsing in her core. She sighs, resting her hands in her lap, picking at her nails. She knew it was too good to be true. She thought…she didn’t know what she thought. That he would stay? That he would forget all about his ridiculous feud and come back to her? Apparently not. She rubs her hand down her face in exasperation. _Damn my foolish heart…and the man who has stolen it._


	2. Chapter 2

**3 Months Later**

Hawke watches in horror as the debris from the explosion rains down in a flurry of ash and fire after Orsino and the surviving mages fled for the Gallows. When she was summoned to the Gallows, she had no idea that it would turn out this way. She thought it would just be yet another pissing match between the Knight Commander and First Enchanter, but this has turned into all-out war between the mages and Templars, and she was helpless but to pick a side. Of course she chose the mages. They were the victims here, and she would rather die than be on Meredith’s side.

How could Anders do something so…there are no words. No words to describe the road he has taken. He has signed his death warrant, without a care in the world for her, as if she meant nothing to him. She should have told him a month ago about…no. It doesn’t matter now, does it? He has shown he doesn’t care about anybody but his unrelenting plight, no doubt run by that damnable sprit that has his soul crushed in a vice.

She wasn’t angry about the death of Grand Cleric or the destruction of the Chantry. To be perfectly honest those bastards have done enough to ignore the pleas of the oppressed mages, herself included. She was more concerned about the repercussions that have fallen onto every mage in the Circle that will now die because of his irrational actions.

She looks to him sitting on a crate passively, staring at the wall in front of him with a blank look on his face. He had to have known that she would be given the task to execute him. He is showing no emotion; no outward appearance of fear or anger. Just waiting to die.

Sebastian is still yelling when she returns from her thoughts, “He deserves to die! He is a murderer and he needs to pay for his crimes with his own blood.”

Moisture is welling in her eyes as she listens to the archer rant. She grips the side of her head and hunches in on herself, hiding like a juvenile, “I can’t. I can’t….” This isn’t fair. This isn’t right. Hasn’t she been through enough? Hasn’t she sacrificed enough for this fucking city, and now she is supposed to look her love in the eye and kill him shove a blade through his fucking heart and watch as his life leaves his eyes? _I haven’t even told him yet…_

Sebastian turns his ire onto her at her childish display, “And why not Hawke!? This man is a criminal and needs to die!”

She shakes her head like a mad woman, “No…no.” She raises her head, her face twisted in rage and screams at him, “I won’t let you!”

He advances on her, “Why Hawke!?”

She has had enough. It’s now, or never.

“Because he is the father of my child!”

Many things happen at once. Merrill gasps and covers her mouth with her hands, Fenris’s eyes widen bigger than she has ever seen them, Varric mutters in astonishment, “Oh, shit”, Aveline shakes her head in disbelief, and Sebastian’s stance changes from fury to disgust and repulsion. She squeezes her eyes shut, and buries her face in her hands, letting out a sob. She tries to will away the tears that have stubbornly welled in her eyes, but she is powerless to them. Her confession has seemed to silence everyone until a voice so soft and tentative cuts through the chaos.

“…Hawke?”

She opens her eyes and lifts her head taking a deep breathe, terrified to face the man she is supposed to execute for his heinous crime, the man who has sired a child in her, the man who she loves so foolishly. She exhales loudly and turns her head to him, her tears flowing freely in a river of sorrow and regret. He is standing now, facing her and their eyes lock. He looks absolutely petrified, mirroring her own emotions.

He walks slowly to her, his whiskey orbs dancing between her emerald ones erratically, their entire situation forgotten and the only people left on those steps are her, and him. He stands before her and she lets out a depreciating laugh and smiles weakly, “I’m pregnant, Anders.” She says a little breathless, her eyes shining up at him. There is no humor in this, but she does not know how else to handle it. And by the looks of it, neither does he. He stands perfectly still, not moving, hardly even breathing.

So she takes his hand and pulls it gently to her lower stomach, covering the back of it and pressing firmly. She says softly, “Feel.” He hesitates for a moment then his hand glows a faint white hue as he spreads his magic through her abdomen. Anders takes a sharp inhale and jerks his head up to face her again, and a slight unbelieving smile spreads across his lips. Not quite the reaction she was expecting. She thought he would be angry, furious, not caring in the least about the life they made together growing inside her. But he actually seems, happy.

To her utter surprise, he pulls her into a warm embrace, burying his head in the crook of her shoulder and she wraps her arms around his neck, breathlessly laughing in disbelief. Anders whispers against her throat right below her ear in wonder, “Maker I…I never thought I…with the taint, I didn’t think it could be possible but…”

“This changes nothing.” Sebastian’s sharp, accented voice cuts through the moment and Anders pulls back to look at Hawke and see the fear in her eyes, “Either you kill him, or I will.” The familiar flash of blue fills his eyes, his skin flaring with the white crackles of Justice demanding to pour out of his skin, and he sharply turns to face the Chantry priest. He was so ready to die only a few moments ago, now even Justice has seemed to change his mind?

Hawke intervenes before he does anything rash and steps in front of him. She lifts her chin and says with defiance, “No. You’ll have to kill me, too.” Anders grips her arm, the buzzing of his magic steady against her skin. Sebastian’s glare flicks from hers to Anders, then back to hers.

The ex-prince points an accusatory finger right in Hawke’s face, “This isn’t over. I will come back with an army and find your precious Anders and show him what real justice is.” His eyes piece her for a moment then moves his glare to Anders behind her, his lips turning into a sneer. With a huff, he turns and walks down the stairs of Lowtown, disappearing into the smoke.

She lets out a shaky breath, relieved to see the archer leave. Anders turns her in his grasp and he holds her face in his hands, rubbing her cheekbones with his thumbs, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Another tear escapes her at the look in his eyes, and he rubs it away quickly, “I didn’t think you’d care.”

He subtly jerks his head back as if he had been slapped, “What? Of course I would care.”

“When you left again after that night I thought, you didn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

“No Hawke.” He rubs his hands down her shoulders and biceps to grasp onto her forearms, her hands grabbing onto his, “I was just trying to protect you from, well, this.” Anders waves is hand to their surroundings.

“Yeah,” She says slowly. She looks up at the destroyed chantry still burning, “I know that now.”

Varric clears his throat, “I hate to interrupt but now is really not the time for this.”

She glances back to the dwarf, eyeing her companions who are looking on in silence, “You’re right.” She studies her friends that have been with her for over six years, “Fenris, Varric, you’re with me.” They both nod their heads, “The rest of you go on to the Gallows, we’ll meet you there.” She turns back to look up into her lover’s warm eyes, “And I would have you by my side as well.”

He snorts, then grins, “Fighting Templars and freeing mages? Damn right I’ll stay with you.” He pulls her into a tender kiss, his tongue swiping into her mouth for a moment before pulling back and resting his forehead against hers, “Our baby will grow up in a world where he won’t have to hide his magic. A world where he will be free.”

She raises an eyebrow, her lips tilting in amusement, “Oh, so it’s a boy?”

Anders shrugs with a sheepish grin, “Just a guess. I can’t tell quite yet.”

She laughs and licks her lips, “I love you.”

He pulls her forehead down to give her a kiss, and whispers against her skin, “I love you too, Marian.”

She nods her head at him and he lets her go. She walks to the stairs, the air thick with smoke and decay as the Chantry burns behind them. Varric cocks Bianca and Fenris grabs his sword from his back twirling it twice before getting into his stance.

She looks to Anders as he pulls his staff from behind his back and he looks to her, and she swears she can see a flicker of white in his eyes, as if Justice is with them, accepting her.

Her lips lift up into a smirk as she pulls her own staff from her back, “Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll get another chapter of my main story up shortly. Thanks for reading!!


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